


Yoora's Your Sister?

by camicazi



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drabble, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kyungsoo is dumb, M/M, dense, minor sebaek, my baby is a tired college student leave him alone, with bad eyesight!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:35:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camicazi/pseuds/camicazi
Summary: “You know,” Kyungsoo whispers, “if you’d just told me Yoora was your sister, we could’ve started dating weeks ago.”
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 18
Kudos: 139





	Yoora's Your Sister?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soojunqs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soojunqs/gifts).



> hello! this is a drabble I wrote for ate Da's birthday, hbd po! *checks the time* it's 1am so this took me about five hours. If there are any grammar mistakes, i'll make sure to fix them when I wake up.
> 
> enjoy this fluff!!!! you'll need it for what i have in store :>

As a rule, Kyungsoo only ever glares when he needs to.

He makes sure to keep unnecessary opinions to himself.

Makes sure to not cause offense.

Makes sure to be polite, a smile on his face, and maybe, if he had the energy, be friendly.

But even with his best efforts, he always did, even when he didn’t mean to—gaze intense and scrutinizing—leaving people nervous and a bit scared.

High school had been the time in his life that let him get away with it; Baekhyun and Jongin, like the true childhood friends they were, had been there, by his side at lunch.

Jongdae, loud as he was, loved talking to him whenever he could, and so the seat beside Kyungsoo during breaks was never empty.

He’d been content to stay the wallflower; small and unassuming between his extroverted circle of friends.

But college had come.

Jongin had stayed behind for another year. Jongdae had enrolled at a different university. The regular three had dwindled down to an erratic one. 

“Didn’t you say your contacts were uncomfortable?”

Their spot—a small area nestled right between the trees in front of the university oval—had been occupied by some tall varsity player and his girlfriend, making them move to the library, students milling about and the drone of air conditioning dominating the common rooms. 

Kyungsoo had laid his head on the table; not feeling up to taking Baekhyun’s hits. 

His day had already been less than ideal.

He’d only just finished whining about his thesis mates being uncooperative. They'd refused to talk past the barest of confirmations and kept shifting on their feet whenever he called for a meeting.

Baekhyun had another hour to waste, and decided that waiting for his boyfriend was good an opportunity as any to give him The Lecture—old as their friendship itself.

“You should wear your glasses more.”

Baekhyun had leaned back on his chair. .

“Midterms are coming up, and you’re going to need help. I know you’re a private person, Soo. I know you thrive with few but solid friends.”

Kyungsoo had only sighed. The advice was starting to grate on his ears.

“But college is different." There was the flick of Baekhyun's fingers on his forehead. "You’re going to have to socialize more. You’re not a hermit—you’re funny and cool and amazing, I can feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head, Kyungsoo, I’m telling the truth—“

Kyungsoo had looked up just to glare at him, if only to prove some non-existent point.

“I’m going to need you to stop glaring at everything you don’t like. That includes the points I make.”

“It’s not my fault,” he’d complained, head dropping back down, “I can’t see—“

“Glasses.”

“It’s _exhausting_ , Baek.”

Kyungsoo’s voice had come out as a mumble in between his arms.

“Why are people so demanding? Why do they expect a culinary arts major to care about their plates?”

Baekyun had rapped his knuckles on his hair, the gesture familiar between them, a code only they understood.

 _Knock knock_ , it said, _care for some common sense?_

“It’s called friendship, Kyungsoo." Baekhyun's voice had gotten soft, and Kyungsoo knew the look he was bound to be wearing on his face by heart.

"You wouldn’t care about Sehun if it wasn’t for me. I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about the caramelization of brown sugar versus white sugar if it wasn’t for you.”

Kyungsoo had only pouted, and Baekhyun knew he had won.

“Promise me you’ll try? I love taking care of you, but it’s time you started looking out for yourself.”

So he promised.

After a few months, Kyungsoo had found himself at a middle-ground.

People were interesting if he allowed them to be. They were nice and responsive, and he had go-to friends per class whenever he felt alone.

He’d had unwanted attention—classmates asking for his number and dates, but he’d decided that it was bearable, as long as they came with pure intentions.

Kyungsoo would turn them down gently, and they'd have no problem with it.

"It's because you're too soft to be upset at," one of them, Jinyoung, had said with a small grimace.

Kyungsoo was ready to protest, but he'd gone away, probably embarrassed. 

By the end of freshman year, he’d gained Chanyeol and Yixing as constants. The basketball players were seemingly content with his quiet company.

They loved his movies, Chanyeol more than Yixing, and he liked making them reach for groceries that were too high up.

He was convinced that his glaring days were finally kept at a minimum.

Especially when Baekhyun and Sehun had teased him about how he looked like he yearned now more than he glared—wide eyes dead giveaways to his affections for a certain varsity basketball player.

“I don’t know if you’re lucky that Chanyeol-hyung is extra dense,” Sehun had said.

Kyungsoo had chosen to keep quiet, took it as an assurance, additional evidence, that he glared less.

But now—

Now, Chanyeol has his instagram pulled up, and the picture shows him with his arms around his girlfriend, the very same one he’d seen him holding hands with at a restaurant.

Now, Chanyeol, bright and charming and out-of-his-league Chanyeol, is smiling his signature smile, the one with too much teeth and too little hesitation.

Now, Kyungsoo _can’t help_ but glare at his milkshake, barely getting a sip in before Baekhyun snatches it from his hands, and the glare transfers from his drink to his best friend.

“You okay, Soo?” Chanyeol’s voice floats through his mind, snapping him to attention. “You’re looking weird.”

The ceiling fan has Chanyeol’s hair flittering every which way—Kyungsoo gets the overwhelming urge to touch it—and his hoodie is looking especially big as it bunches up around his arms. 

“Rude.” Kyungsoo tries not to let the concern in the other boy's tone get to his head.

Chanyeol has a girlfriend.

“It’s just a change of clothes.” Maybe flirting will get him out of this. “You’re not the only one here allowed to look handsome.”

Chanyeol hums, suspicious.

Maybe not.

“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” At least Chanyeol winks, throwing his banter right back. “Got something to say, penguin?” 

"I keep telling you not to call me that," Kyungsoo chucks a fry at him in response, his nickname drawing up equal parts ire and unwanted yearning—Chanyeol catches it with ease. "When will you listen?"

"When you stop hiding behind your hoodie, maybe. Why won't you let me see your stupid face?"

“If this is your way of saying I look cute today,” Kyungsoo shoots a wink of his own, “I’ll take it.”

“Someone asked you out again, didn’t they?”

“What, you got a problem with that?”

There’s something in Chanyeol’s eyes, a glint he’s never seen before. “I’m taking it as a yes.”

“No one asked me out.”

“Uh-huh.” 

Kyungsoo crosses his arms. Tilts his head in the most unaffected way he can. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

Chanyeol has a girlfriend.

“What if I want it to be?”

“That’s nice and all,” Kyungsoo snorts, “but I don't need a babysitter.”

Sehun clears his throat. 

“Sorry to interrupt whatever _this—"_ he waves a hand towards the both of them, “—is, but me and Baekhyun have to go.”

“We only just got here.” Kyungsoo pleads with his eyes.

If they can communicate his apparent death-wishes on strangers, they could get his desperation through to his best friend.

_Don’t leave me alone with him, please. He’s too pretty today._

Baekhyun raises his brows in answer.

_You’re on your own. This will be good for you._

“I have plates to do,” Sehun says, getting up before any one of them can protest, “and Baekhyun promised to help me.”

“He’s a music major,” Kyungsoo refutes. “How could he possibly help you?”

_Good for who? I’m hopeless._ _He has a girlfriend._

“He’ll be my motivation,” Sehun lands a quick kiss on Baekhyun’s lips. “Right babe?”

Baekhyun throws him one last look before they leave.

_You’re so dumb. This is why I bully you._

“Stop having conversations I can’t eavesdrop on,” Sehun scolds, and all too soon, Kyungsoo is left with Chanyeol.

Chanyeol hasn’t opposed to the idea of them having dinner alone once—only kept silent, scrolled through his phone, while Kyungsoo tried to convince Baekhyun to stay.

It’s like their conversation restarts—and it’s so easy, slipping into their space, cultivated through months of silent cues and small touches—they catch up on the anime shows they’ve watched, argue a bit at some of Chanyeol’s opinions on some of Kyungsoo favorite movies.

Their stilted topics should have given them more reason to be awkward, but everything flows, like it always did with Chanyeol.

Their first conversation had been proof of that; Kyungsoo literally bumping into him at the gym, Chanyeol offering to pay for his lunch to make up for the one that had littered the floor.

At some point between laughing at the faces he made in between bites—Kyungsoo had dared him to eat the food he liked the least—and walking back to the dorms, the butterflies in Kyungsoo’s gut had formed, ready to terrorize him whenever Chanyeol waved in between the hallways or slung his arm around his shoulders.

The music major had popped up more and more until Kyungsoo had formed a routine around him, had started to look for him after class and calling him on weekends for short trips to restaurants they wanted to try.

Sometimes, Chanyeol would get him to sing on the bleachers, lazy days spent in front of a guitar, gazing at even lazier clouds in the sky.

Sometimes, Kyungsoo would get Chanyeol to study with him in the library, cramming and rushing projects, silence a comfortable weight around them, broken by the occasional coffe breaks in between.

“It’s obvious he likes you,” Baekhyun had said one day, when the butterflies had become too intense to keep to himself. “Why don’t you just ask him out?”

The idea of confessing had crossed Kyungsoo’s mind too many times to count—he didn’t appreciate the slow burn of maybes and what ifs—and why wouldn’t he?

Chanyeol was warm. Pretty. Talented.

Taken. 

“He has a girlfriend,” Kyungsoo had said, maybe a little dejected. Even if something told him that maybe confessing would be good for the both of them. “Talks about her sometimes.”

Baekhyun’s brows had only furrowed, and Kyungsoo had talked to Baekhyun about the girl Chanyeol had seemingly spent his childhood with.

After he'd finished, there was a knowing smile on his best friend's lips, the one that said _I know something you don't, but it's so obvious and you're just too dense to see it._

“My Kyungja,” Baekhyun had ruffled his hair. “You’re too cute.”

Something cold settles on his nose.

Kyungsoo blinks; Chanyeol is smiling at him, iced tea pressed close to his face.

“You listening, Soo?”

All at once, it hits him; a pang of longing, dragging him down, and Kyungsoo shakes his head.

“Just tired,” he lies. “I have a presentation tomorrow. Think we can call it a day?”

Chanyeol lit up when he talked about Yoora; eyes shining the way they did when he talked about the little things he loved—his rilakkummas, his studio, his music.

It would do no one any good to keep seeing Chanyeol’s actions as anything other than friendly, _platonic_ , initiations.

Kyungsoo doesn't have it in him to get rejected on a night like this, not when Chanyeol had laughed too hard and ended up with milkshake stains on his shirt and the taller boy had uploaded a selfie of them on his Instagram. 

As a compromise to the butterflies, he decides to break the illusion when it’s about to end—when they’re walking along the street, ice cream cones in hand, the rush of cars mingling with the silence. 

“You know,” Kyungsoo breaks it, preparing himself, “you should be more careful about spending so much time outside like this. Yoora might get jealous.”

“Jealous?” Chanyeol's confusion is endearing like always, “I can take care of myself.”

They walk along, avoiding puddles and basking in the promise of rain drifting through the night air until Chanyeol stops.

“I don’t get it, why would she be jealous?”

Kyungsoo shrugs. “Look man, I’m not out to dictate how you handle your relationship, but even I know we looked like we were on a date, and I’m denser than most when it comes to these things—“

“Yoora’s my sister.”

The information takes a while to sink in.

“Yoora’s my sister, Kyungsoo.”

“Yoora’s your _sister_?”

“Yes.”

But when it does, it rips a laugh from his chest, slight at first, but then he’s giggling, hands coming up to cover his face, sticky from sugar and crumbs.

“Oh god,” Kyungsoo half-groans, half-wheezes, and he’s sure he looks like a lunatic. All of Sehun and Baekhyun’s teasing finally make sense.

When he manages to get a hold of himself, Chanyeol is already turning away for whatever reason, but he reaches out to catch his wrist.

“Wait,” Kyungsoo blurts out. “ _Fucking wait,_ I have something to say.”

Chanyeol only looks up at him with those doe eyes, and Kyungsoo allows himself to think that they’re filled with hope, finally allows himself to notice the blush on the taller boy’s cheeks.

“I like you,” Kyungsoo confesses, sweet and simple. There are traces of his laugh on his words, mingling his syllables together. “I really like you, Chanyeol.”

He watches Chanyeol light up—watches the smile spread on his face, and it gives him confidence.

“I want to take you out on dates and have you be my permanent study partner. I want to list the reasons why I like you through text so I can see you squeal with your ridiculous emojis, and I want to make you blush and call you my boyfriend and bother you to go grocery shopping.”

Chanyeol steps closer, and all Kyungsoo sees is how opposite they seem to be in this moment.

Chanyeol, always louder.

Always more expressive.

Always touchier, not afraid to show his affection.

Now silent, almost stoic.

“Will you let me?” Kyungsoo asks, and for a second, their breaths mingle, electricity sparking in the space between them—

“That’s a really stupid question,” Chanyeol smiles, and Kyungsoo's _gone_.

“Of course I'll let you. How could I not? You know how hard it is to get your attention? I’m convinced you’ve got half the student body after you. I pretended to care about _eel dicks_ for you, you little piece of shit—“

Kyungsoo mouth captures his in a kiss, just a quick peck, but it leaves the both of them breathless, has Chanyeol laughing too.

They’re giddy as they continue down to their dorms, faces hot and hands intertwined like a bunch of high-schoolers that couldn’t keep their feelings to themselves.

Chanyeol drops Kyungsoo off at his dorm, but not without pulling him close, not without a “proper kiss”, calling him boyfriend and doing so many other things that makes his skin crawl with excitement.

“You know,” Kyungsoo whispers, “if you’d just told me Yoora was your sister, we could’ve started dating weeks ago.”

Chanyeol pulls away, tapping his cheek. “It’s not my fault you decided to assume I had a girlfriend.”

“You talked about her all the time!”

“Because you kept bringing up the play she was in.” Chanyeol snorts. “I was starting to get annoyed, to be honest. You could've just _asked._ ”

Kyungsoo has nothing to say to that, so he curls his hand around his boyfriend’s neck and pulls him down. 

**Author's Note:**

> oof cavities


End file.
